


Stimulus

by Jay_eagle



Series: Submission [5]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: BDSM Scene, Cock Worship, Dom Douglas, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anon prompter on Tumblr requested some dom!Douglas.</p><p>Stand-alone fic, grouped in this, my BDSM series of works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stimulus

“Lie back.” Douglas’ voice was a silky purr and Martin obeyed instantly, sinking into the sheets of his futon. Douglas smiled, and ran a finger down his bare chest. “Atta boy.” He drew Martin’s hands up to the edges of the bed, and fastened them with silk rope to the frame. “Do I need to tie your legs too, or will you be a good boy for me and lie still?”

 

“I’ll lie still, sir,” Martin promised, his voice reedy in the quiet of the bedroom.

 

Douglas smiled. “Alright.” He leant over and pressed a kiss to Martin’s sternum, thumbing his nipples so they peaked. Martin was completely bare, spread out for him, while he remained dressed – a minor detail, but one that emphasised subtly where the power lay in this bedroom tonight. He reached for the black hood he’d bought, something they’d never used before, and held it up so that Martin could see what it was. “I’m going to cover your eyes,” he growled. “You won’t be able to see, but you can still speak.” He waited for Martin’s nod before continuing. “You can say whatever you like, as long as it’s respectful, or if it’s ‘stop’.”

 

Martin shivered as Douglas drew the covering over his face. His heavy breathing fluttered the fabric up and down, his chest moving in synchrony with it, and Douglas swallowed hard. He’d pictured playing at this scene so, so many times. Drawing a stool up to the side of the futon, he picked up the bottle of oil he’d brought and warmed it a little between his hands, before smoothing a generous amount into Martin’s pectoral and abdominal muscles, enjoying the jump and quiver of them as his touch took the blinded captain by surprise.

 

He massaged the oil into the skin and kissed Martin’s neck, but left his cock untouched until it was fully erect, flushed red and poking insistently towards the sub’s navel. He kept one hand on Martin as he retrieved the oil again, this time drizzling it from a height so it dripped ticklishly all over his boy’s hardness. The gentle draw of a single fingertip up the shaft followed the oil, and Martin sighed. “Mmm.”

 

“Feels good?”

 

“Yes, sir – _oh_.”

 

Douglas had formed a ring with his thumb and forefinger, was teasing insistently at the ridge of the head. Martin held his breath. “Stay still,” Douglas commanded, sensing Martin’s hips beginning to twitch. He pinched a nipple in admonition, causing the captain to jerk in shock.

 

“Sorry – sir –“

 

Douglas didn’t acknowledge the apology verbally, but took Martin’s cock into his whole hand, setting a pace of slow strokes up and down, the oil greasing the way. He worked Martin until he was crying out freely, his gasps coming faster and faster. He took him right to the edge, then stopped, instead transferring his strokes to Martin’s chest, massaging firmly until the boy calmed down.

 

When he sensed enough time had passed for the sub to master himself again, he slid his hand downwards once more, bypassing Martin’s cock, instead reaching to cup and gently mould his balls. The dry skin had thirstily sucked up the oil by now, so he drizzled more, eliciting a high-pitched whine from his lover as he rubbed it into the wrinkled velvet softness. “There we are…” He rubbed more insistently, bringing his thumb to nudge at the base of Martin’s shaft, before sliding it all the way up – then down – then up again.

 

And – God had given him two hands for a reason, he supposed. He left Martin’s well-pinched nipples alone, slipped his hand to grasp the boy’s cock fully between both palms. Setting up a twisting motion, he relished the desperate noises the captain couldn’t help emitting as Douglas varied his pace – fast, slow, slow, medium – without sight, Martin couldn’t tell what was coming next. His thighs were tensing, Douglas noted, and backed off a little.

 

“Not yet,” he murmured, and laughed darkly at Martin’s needy groan. Instead, he smoothed oil into the muscle of the sub’s inner thighs, so he now glistened palely from neck to knee in the dim lamplight. He would have looked as though he’d been carved from glossy marble, were it not for the constant heaving of his taut stomach as he strained for release.

 

“So tempting…” Douglas whispered, and without warning, thumbed at the very tip of the boy’s cock, wiggling insistently into the slit.

 

“Augh!” Master! Ah!” Martin’s wrists tugged at the bindings, his head thrashing twice, side to side.

 

“Good boy,” Douglas crooned. “So lovely.” He took hold of Martin at last, one hand pumping a steady rate on his erection, the other nudging a finger at his arsehole, circling it lightly. Martin tried to wriggle down the bed onto it, but the ties prevented him. “No,” Douglas ordered, and despite his intense arousal, Martin stilled. “When I decide.”

 

“Sir…” Martin’s voice was obeisant, but Douglas could hear the longing in it.

 

“I know.” Douglas leant in, pressed a swift kiss to his stomach, tasting oil and sweat as he licked his lips hungrily. “So desperate, aren’t you? So needy, all for me…”

 

“Yes, sir,” Martin breathed, his fists white-knuckled on the ropes binding him. His hips were jerking involuntarily in time with Douglas’ tugs on his cock, and Douglas decided not to order him to stop – the sight was too delicious. He tightened his grip for a moment, then swapped it for a drum of fingertips all along the length, as if playing an obscene piano, varying the sensation.

 

He returned to stroking, both hands now working the shaft, twisting and pulling frictionlessly over the oiled skin. The pace increased, and Martin was moaning constantly now – little cries of ‘sir’ and ‘Douglas’ and ‘God’ interspersed with inarticulate whimpering as Douglas rubbed at him.

 

Douglas was panting in sympathy, but didn’t stop from his task. “Soon, love,” he promised, growling next to where Martin’s ear hid under the hood. “You’re going to come all over yourself; I’m going to force out every last drop of that spunk I know is just waiting to surge out of you, so hard, aren’t you, under my fingers, my touch? It’s going to cover your gorgeous chest – your come _everywhere_ , all mixed with the oil on your skin, for me, just me.” He gulped at the thought of it, and Martin gasped. “But first –“

 

“ _Oh!_ ” Martin wailed as Douglas forced two fingers inside him without warning. He crooked them, listening for the word ‘stop’ in case - but it never came, and he was very good at finding – at finding –

 

“ _There_ you are.” Martin bucked as Douglas found the little nub of his prostate and nudged at it, still stroking his cock. He massaged the small, smooth bump, noting every twitch and flinch his touches produced, every whine and sob of pleasure.

 

“Oh, oh sir, oh please, please, God, so good, please –“

 

“Yes,” he spat. “I want you _now_ , Martin – come for me.”

 

“Yes – yes – yes –“ Martin’s pelvis thrust up as Douglas pressed insistently inside him, drumming his fingers, still jerking his cock, and – “Augh!” Martin was coming, streaking his abs with white lines, the prostate stimulation forcing forth volumes of come the like of which Douglas had rarely seen.

 

“Beautiful,” he croaked, “good boy. _Good_ boy.”

 

Martin suddenly slumped, the tremors of climax dissipating to leave him boneless and sated. But Douglas hadn’t finished. He was continuing, moving his hand on Martin’s still-hard but spent cock, and Martin whimpered. “Sir –“

 

“You’re not done until I say you are.” Douglas’ voice was harsh with desire. “You’re _mine_.”

 

“Please – please –“ Martin’s shivery oversensitivity was his to exploit, now, and it was _glorious_. He pressed again – just once – at his boy’s prostate, making him gasp and thrash instinctively away, causing Douglas’ hand to slip free. He rested it on Martin’s thigh, a reassuring weight as he continued to jerk at Martin’s slowly wilting shaft.

 

Martin was moaning loudly, in pleasure-pain all mixed together, and Douglas again thumbed at his slit, making his sub emit a noise that was more scream than anything else. Douglas waited a moment, then repeated the action, torturing the head of Martin’s cock until the boy was sobbing beneath his ministrations, quaking under his touch. “Master – oh God – oh – oh –“

 

“That’s it,” Douglas purred. Gradually, he lightened his probing fingers; replaced them with a palm, just cupping Martin’s now nearly-softened, vulnerable penis warmly and possessively. He leant in, breathed hot air ticklishly over Martin’s neck, enjoying his shiver. “You’ve done so well, my love.”

 

Martin sighed heavily, and it was blissful. Douglas reluctantly released his hold on his sub’s groin, stroking the hand up, through the tacky spatters of come on his belly – never leaving him untouched as he stretched to release the knots that bound Martin’s hands. The last item to be removed was the hood, and Douglas was reassured to see Martin’s blue eyes gazing trustingly up at him, the tousled curls sticking to the captain’s forehead in gorgeous disarray. “There you are,” Douglas smiled. “Brilliant boy. Well done.”

 

Martin reached for him, and Douglas left the stool at last and slid into bed next to him, flipping the blanket to cover them both. “Can I do – do anything for you, sir?” Martin’s voice was slurred, his brain still clearly in cotton-woolly subspace.

 

Douglas cuddled him close, soothing him with gentle strokes to his back – heedless of the oil, sweat and come surely smearing on to his clothes from Martin’s skin. “No,” he said, calmly. “Tonight was all for you, my darling.” He kissed Martin’s forehead. “Rest now.”

 

“Yes, Douglas…” Martin yawned, beginning to come down from his high. He was utterly limp in Douglas’ clutch, and the dom felt a surge of protective affection flood through him.

 

“My good boy,” he whispered. _I’m so lucky_.

 

“Me too,” Martin murmured in reply, and Douglas smiled softly as he realised his thought had been uttered aloud.

 

“Aren’t we just?”

 

A sleepy, happy sigh was his only answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr, where I preview fics and take prompts if you have them - jay-eagle.tumblr.com . Thanks for reading!


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